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Barba notices something’s off with Carisi at the trial of Richard Wheatley. Carisi keeps turning his head to his left whenever anyone speaks. He never asks for anyone to speak up, but Barba knows what it is, because his abuela did the same thing, always refusing to get hearing aids.
He had, of course, heard about the attack on Carisi in this very courtroom, the kid stabbing the pencil in his ear, and Carisi claiming afterwards that it had just missed piercing his eardrum.
From the looks of it, Carisi had either lied or, at the very least, had underplayed the damage to his ear, to his hearing. After the trial, he walks up behind Carisi, on Carisi’s left side, and says quietly, “Te amo, pero no puedes oírme, ¿verdad?”
Carisi doesn’t even flinch.
Barba touches him on the elbow, and Carisi turns, pensive. “What do you want, Rafael?”
“Did you hear any of that?” Barba’s eyebrows knit, and Carisi notices his distress.
“You…said something. In Spanish.”
“You know Spanish, though. How far did that pencil go in?”
Carisi freezes. “You heard about that.”
“It was in the Times. Of course I heard. Of course I cared.”
“You didn’t call.”
“Didn’t think it would be appropriate. How long have you been…”
“Look, Rollins doesn’t know. None of ‘em do. I can still do my job.” Carisi walks away, and Barba finds himself running to catch up.
“How has she not caught on?” And Barba feels a little outraged that Carisi’s girlfriend, of all things, hasn’t noticed that her boyfriend is partially deaf.
“I’m careful. Clearly, not careful enough for you.”
Barba closes the divide between them. “I know you better than she does.”
Carisi snorts. “That’s a stretch.”
“Have you considered getting a—“
“No. You know everyone’s pissed at you? I shouldn’t even be seen talking to you.”
Barba huffs. “Because of Stabler.”
“Yeah, that guy. I may not like him, but he’s still on our side, and you’re not.” Carisi’s shoulders slump a little.
“I don’t think you know that for sure. I don’t know that for sure.” Barba’s shoulders are slumping too. “Look, you wanna grab a drink?”
“Liv wouldn’t--”
“You don’t work for Liv anymore. You work for the DA, who probably wouldn’t want you to either, but who cares?”
Carisi winces, but he holds up a finger. “Just one.”
Barba smiles and clasps Carisi on the shoulder. “Sounds like a plan.”
The two walk down the courthouse steps together, just like they walked into the courthouse together at the start of the trial, and Carisi asks, “What did you say? In Spanish?”
“Oh. Just that you couldn’t hear me.”
Carisi gives a doubtful look to Barba but lets it go. “You really think I should get a hearing aid?” Barba laughs softly and shakes his head gently, and they go off, into the evening.
I love you, but you can’t hear me, can you?